Immortality
by SkyBlueScientist
Summary: A revealing tale of Jack Sparrow's mysterious past and the girl who followed him into the world of piracy. Jack is after The Fountain of Youth and his quest leads him to the legendary Lost City.
1. Prologue A Girl Called Charlotte

Prologue A Girl Called Charlotte Year 1702 (14 years before the films)

"Avast!" Thomas growled sending Charlotte into flights of laughter. He'd tied a rag across one eye and was brandishing a stick, feet wide apart as he stood astride the barrel at the docks. He glanced down at his friend with a frown as she clutched her sides.

"Come on Char," he grumbled, poking her with the stick.

"Alright, alright," she giggled, flapping him away and pulling out her own weapon, a wooden spoon.

"Avast!" Thomas began again and Charlotte, tensing her cheeks so as not to smile, clambered up onto the barrel next to him.

"You won't escape me Dread Pirate Thomas!" she called and their weapons clunked together as they entered into a long and arduous swordfight. She giggled as they fought, head scarf slipping down over her forehead as she ducked and dodged. Thomas's little brother watched in delight, too small to climb up after them but old enough to enjoy the drama.

Sailors pushed past them gruffly as they played, unloading the small boats tied at the jetty. When the children were tired out they sat down with Thomas's brother and looked out at the bigger ships in the harbour.

"I'm captain of that one," Thomas announced suddenly, pointing at a sloop bobbing up and down not far away. "And I'll have a blood red flag with a big skull on it." Charlotte pretended to look scared then laughed.

"Look!" she cried dramatically. "It's the wrecked ship _Black Charity_!"

Thomas cracked up laughing when he saw the little fishing boat covered in barnacles, its mast snapped in two.

"That's not a legendary ship!" he chuckled. "I don't think they discovered Atlantis in a dinghy!"

Charlotte scowled at him.

"It's a _shipwreck_, it's at the bottom of the ocean," she argued.

"Never mind," Thomas conceded with a smile. "It's just a story anyway."

They stayed a little longer, idly watching the bustle around them. But the afternoon soon darkened and the fishermen and casual seamen turned into filthy sailors and whore hunters and they decided it was time to go home. They said their goodbyes and Thomas took his brother's hand and headed off.

Charlotte waved to them until they were out of sight and then set off nervously along the docks. It was later than she had thought and even though she was only thirteen the men were leering at her, following her progress with yellowed eyes. Her pace got faster and faster until she was almost trotting over the cobbles.

"Charlotte!"

Charlotte looked up and smiled when she saw her elder brother Jim walking towards her. Relief flooded through her and she waved eagerly to him.

What happened next seemed to be slowed in time. She saw the man come up behind her brother, opened her mouth to shout as he raised the club but too late her brother tried too look around as it came down on the back of his head, stunning him. Charlotte broke into a run as a second man grabbed Jim by the arms and began to haul him along the jetty to a waiting sloop. She could hear herself screaming at them to let him go as if from far away. Her brother was recovering, beginning to struggle and shout but the club came down again.

When Charlotte reached the jetty the vessel was already making for the open water beyond the harbour. She leapt into the water and began to struggle through the waves, her clothes becoming soaked and weighing her down. Each stroke of her arms seemed to take her further away from Jim, not closer. For a moment she slipped under a wave and when she came up spluttering and coughing the ship was too far away.

Tears mingling with salt water she struck back towards the dock and pulling herself up onto dry land, ran for home.

Later Charlotte listened to her mother sobbing as she lay curled on the floor behind her bedroom door. Her cheek still stung from where her mother had struck her earlier. She thought of her brother, press-ganged at the age of eighteen, alone and hurt and scared. Would she ever see him again?

She heard her father suddenly break his solemn silence.

"I'll go after him," he sighed. "I'll find him."

"Oh don't be stupid," sobbed his wife hysterically. "Your leg, you can't sail anymore. We'll never find him. I'll never see my beautiful son again. If only, if only she hadn't gone down to the docks. If only she had come home when she should've!"

She broke down again and Charlotte felt her stomach clench tight. Her heart felt like ice in her chest and she wondered for a moment what would happen if she just stopped breathing, if she closed her eyes and slipped away. The guilt was like a great suffocating blanket pressing down on her and she cried herself into a nightmare sleep.

She awoke barely a few hours later from the cold of the floor against her side and she lay still for a moment. Finally she managed to rise and went to the mirror. Her cheek still glowed red, like a mark of guilt on her skin, and she gazed back into her reflected brown eyes. Her mother would never forgive her. Charlotte had taken away her eldest child, her only son. Her father couldn't chase the pirates so that left Charlotte. Little Charlotte, who played pirates all day long safe in the knowledge she would never come across one. Who pretended to stow away on ships, sail to distant lands and fight great battles.

She went to her chest and opened it. There were the clothes Thomas had lent her for their sea-faring games. How many times had she marched up and down the docks, deceiving all the sailors into thinking she was a boy? Short brown hair stuffed up inside the cloth cap, dressed in the shirt and trousers. How many times had she been offered work as a cabin boy, as a powder monkey? And every time she had laughed to think she could get aboard their ship and sail away with them into the horizon.

She took the clothes out and stared at them for a while. She felt the cool of the night soothing her stinging cheek and she angrily hit herself across the face, bruising it further.

Maybe if she brought her brother home, her mother would forgive her.


	2. Chapter One The Rum Is Gone

Chapter One The Rum Is Gone Year 1717

The compass point was spinning erratically back and forth again. Jack Sparrow snapped the blue box shut and shook it forcefully but there was no change when he peeked inside once more.

"I want," he murmured, glaring at the circular reed map in front of him, its edges tattered from where he had torn it from Sao Feng's navigational charts. "I want the Fountain of Youth."

He gazed intently at the tiny picture on the map of an angel and a skeleton holding an hourglass and the words 'Aqua de Vida' scribed below them and for a moment the compass quivered motionless. But before a smile could form on Jack's face it was off again, swivelling this way and that. With a groan he threw the compass into the bottom of the boat and reached for the bottle that sat beside him, but waiting had not made it refill with rum and he had drained the last drops long ago. His stomach ached for something other than hard biscuits as the sun beat down upon his unsheltered form. He had already forgone his coat and his boots but he could feel the sweat running down his back beneath his shirt and perspiration was soaking into his head scarf.

All these things paled into insignificance when he thought about his ship, _The Black Pearl_, which he had managed against all odds to captain beyond the thirteen years allowed. Now it had been stolen once again by Hector Barbossa, a man Jack had promised himself many years ago he would never trust again.

Above all he missed his ship and as he thought of her the compass, which had fallen open, stayed in it's spinning for just a moment, quivering gently. By now the ship was probably miles away, there was no sense in chasing it, not in the little dinghy he was sailing.

The sun was just beginning to set and as it sank below the horizon in a fiery display that turned the ocean to molten lava Jack shivered as the breeze chilled the sweat on his back and he fumbled for his coat. With the darkness came the exhaustion of nights with no sleep and his eyelids drooped as the stars twinkled above in a cloudless Caribbean sky, but sleeping meant the boat would drift aimlessly on the currents and so Jack forced his weary brown eyes open once more.

Jack woke to the sound of distant shouting and he smiled in his half-wakened state, for a moment dreaming he was once again aboard his beloved _Black Pearl_. However the dinghy tipped dangerously, letting spray from a wave splash across his face and he sat up with a start. Disorientated in the dark he sat still as the boat steadied itself, the starlight dancing off the water in glimmering reflections of the sky. To wake up to such a reality after hearing the sounds of the ship in his dreams was heart-wrenching but as he sat he realised the noises he had heard were real. With a frown he looked behind him and his eyes opened wide in surprise.

A galleon was snaking through the waves, close enough that he could hear the shouts of the sailors on board. Its lamps were lit but dimmed and for a moment Jack believed it was his ship, but as it drew closer it became obvious that it had only been his imagination, this vessel was far larger than his own.

Indecisive, Jack flapped about in his boat for a moment, wondering whether he should hitch a lift. The galleon was headed straight for him, obviously utilising the current on which he himself was being carried, it was going to mow him down.

Frantic, with arms flailing and unsteady legs, Jack stuck his boots back on and gathered his belongings, stuffing the map, compass and his pistol into his belts. As the large craft drew closer Jack thought it somewhat familiar but he had no time to change his mind. His jolly-boat was knocked aside by the waves from the ships prow and he leapt nimbly from one vessel to the other. For a moment his hands fumbled for a hold on the slippery side of the bow and the bottom of his boots dipped into the cold water but his fingers caught the jutting wood of the rungs fixed to the side and he pulled his feet back up.

Clambering easily up the make-shift ladder he finally pulled himself onto the deck and lay there sprawled and panting. For a moment he felt the blissful sensation of being aboard a fully sized ship again before someone grabbed him by the collar and yanked him to his feet. He swayed on his feet as his captor shook him.

"Who the hell are you?" the sailor growled in his face and Jack's expression creased into one of disgust as he smelt the man's breath. "Where did you come from?!"

"Who am I?," Jack asked rhetorically, his lop-sided grin appearing as he launched into his usual introduction.

"Jack Sparrow," said a voice behind him, beating him to it. "Well, well, well."

"It's Captain, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow," Jack corrected out of habit, but his smile was long gone as he recognised the tall man behind him. "I knew it," he continued ruefully, "I recognised the ship."

"Every pirate and sailor in the Caribbean recognises this ship," the man replied unsmiling.

They gazed at each other and Jack took in the pirate before him, perhaps younger than himself but with a look of stone. His thick black beard was matted into dreadlocks yet his clothes were particularly fine, almost new and he wore a large plumed hat.

"Teach," Jack finally acknowledged.

"I'm not known by that name anymore," Edward Teach replied. "People call me Blackbeard. Strikes fear into a man's heart."

"But me and you," contradicted Jack, his winning grin back in place. "You and me, we're old friends." He turned to the crew members that were gathering around them and pointed at himself and the captain. "We go back, Edward and I. Isn't that right Ed?"

Teach remained solemn, his grey eyes glinting dangerously.

"It's been a long time Sparrow," he growled and a puzzled tone entered his voice. "I heard you were dead."

"Ah yes," Jack's expression changed rapidly as the events of the past year came back to him. "Well, it's a long story."

"Well then you can enlighten us, along with how you got aboard my ship."

Jack smiled again, his gold-capped teeth glinting in the moonlight.

"Magic," he replied and Teach's jaw muscles clenched beneath his famous beard.

"I've heard stories about you," he murmured suspiciously. "That you've been mixed up with ghosts and curses and…" he paused uncertainly. "The Woman."

"Calypso?" Jack asked, watching with satisfaction as Teach flinched and half the crew stepped backward. He reached up to where his piece of eight, a few beads and a coin which had helped enslave Calypso, had once draped over his bandanna and fingered the kraken tooth which now hung in its place.

"The court released her?" gasped Teach, unnerved and Jack scratched his cheek thoughtfully.

"You would have had a say," he reminded the fabled pirate. "You could've easily been a Pirate Lord."

At this Teach's uneasy demeanour vanished and he prowled the deck to where Jack stood.

"Pirate Lord," he spat at Jack who wiped his eye with another exaggerated movement. "What does that even mean? Shipwreck City is nothing but a room full of arguing courtiers. I follow no hierarchy. On my ship I am king."

"You're the captain, Captain," Jack acknowledged, cocking his head arrogantly. Teach grabbed him angrily by the front of his coat and pulled him closer. He was a good eight inches or so taller than Jack who had to crane his neck to meet the steely grey gaze.

"I see death hasn't changed you much Sparrow," he snarled. "Perhaps a second time might do the trick." Jack sucked a sharp breath through his teeth as he felt a dagger press against his stomach and the crew of _The Queen Anne's Revenge_ roared their approval. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you."

"I still owe you money?" Jack replied frantically but Teach had just noticed the strange piece of rice paper parchment stuck in Jack's belt.

"What," he murmured with interest, yanking it out in one smooth movement, "is this?" Jack leapt after it but his out-stretched arms were caught by a pair of pirates who pulled him back. Teach unfolded it carefully and stared at the crafted circles.

"How did you get this?" he whispered, turning back to Jack but never taking his eyes off the chart.

"That's part of the long story," Jack explained.

"'The Locker?'" Teach exclaimed quietly, ignoring Jack as he read the first name he came across. "This tells you how to get to Davy Jones' Locker?"

"It's not all that exciting," Jack remarked with a shrug, making a face as he remembered his time there. Teach finally looked back up at him, his expression one of confused disbelief.

"Let him go," Teach ordered. "We are going to have a talk in my cabin."

Jack grinned as he was released and sauntered after the bearded captain. Once in the captain's quarters of _The Queen Anne's Revenge _Teach removed his impressive hat and threw it onto the table.

"What are you up to this time Sparrow?" He unfurled the map on the desk and sat down behind it. Jack watched uneasily as he began to turn the circles.

"It's all gibberish," Teach remarked finally after searching for corresponding scribbles. "How did you get this from Sao Feng?"

"That's another bit of the long story," Jack explained with a sigh, stepping surreptitiously closer and trying to slide a hand over to the map. Teach snatched the map away and stabbed a dagger into the table, between Jack's fingers. Jack swallowed, gazing at the quivering blade.

"And why isn't he wanting it back?"

"He's dead," Jack replied grimly. "You'd know that if you'd been at the Brethren Court. I didn't see your ship when we were facing Beckett's armada."

Teach's face was a picture of astonishment but it soon relaxed into a smile.

"Jack Sparrow, fighting for something other than his own skin?" he laughed, slapping his palm down on the table. "You've forgotten how to be a pirate. I was taking advantage of the fact that every naval ship was otherwise occupied, as should you have been. You've changed Jack."

Jack shrugged the comment off as he wandered around, examining the bits and bobs scattered about. Had he changed? A lot had happened since he had last seen Blackbeard.

"'Aqua de Vida'," he heard Teach read out and swung around. "The Fountain of Youth?" The look on Jack's face was enough to confirm that this was indeed what he was after. "Ambitious aren't we Jack?"

"Well," Jack chuckled nervously but Teach cut him off.

"Listen Jack, I don't care what you waste your time on," he barked, suddenly pushing the map away and leaning back in his chair. "Myths and cursed treasure. What I want is the money you owe me."

Jack moved forward and tucked the map safely into his belt again.

"Take me to Shipwreck City and I'll pay you what I owe," he offered, spreading his arms in a companionable gesture.

"It's been five years Jack," Teach countered coldly. "I'll take you to Shipwreck, but I'm expecting more than I gave. The gold better be waiting."

"You have my word," Jack replied cordially and pressed his hands together in thanks. "Now how about a drink for an old friend?" He looked around hoping to spy a bottle of rum in a dark recess.

Teach got up from his chair and walked slowly around the desk until he was face to face once more with Jack. His bushy beard tickled the shorter pirate's face as he loomed above him.

"The sailors on this ship earn their way," he growled, taking up some furled parchments from his desk. "I remember you were good with charts." He shoved the maps into Jack's arms and reached for his hat. "You'll eat when you've charted our course." With that he went back out on deck.

Jack dumped the maps back on the table and slumped into the chair. Opening one out he took up the set of navigational dividers and gazed down at the charts with a resigned sigh.


End file.
